My father is dead.  Never had one conversation with the man.  Well, half of one, once, when I was 15.  My mom called him, talked to him for a few, then handed the phone to me.  I said hello, the most nervous thing I had ever done in my life, but I over came it and did it.  

He hung up the phone and the one thing that I know for sure about the man, I didn’t take any bravery I have in my system from him.

But he’s dead, now, and if I were to go out and find out anything about the man, I would be doing it by myself, on my own.  I would be facing a monumental task, getting people to divulge information to a bastard child.  I would stand a better chance walking up Mt. Everest after a shower, with just a robe and slippers on.  

So, there’s that. 

I envy you who had your Father in your life,

I pity you who are Fathers and don’t know if your child has clothes on their backs, a decent roof over their head, good food in their belly and if they’re happy…well, a child that doesn’t have their father in their lives, once they become aware that, for whatever reasons, their Father chose not to be in their lives, there will be some kind of feeling in their spirit about that.

So to those men who go through whatever they’re going through and still find a way to be in their child(ren) live(s) much love to you, men.

Much love.

neekcooper:

Happy Fathers Day to my dad.

In 10 days, it will be 9 years since he passed. I miss him.

popculturedropsquad:

um…nevermind.

ramblingsofanurbanjawn:

My mom wrote this for my father. I remember the chapped lips.

in memory

he was the fifth of ten

the second of four sons

he was the gold

on the little finger,

the only big brother

his sisters had

he did his best,

left me a daughter

and ten quarters

of earnings

just enough

to get by

his son slept on the couch

of an old lady’s house

the television was on

he was in the bathroom

they didn’t hear him fall

his oldest sister

stood over the coffin,

arms folded, head down.

No, was all she said.

his daughter worried

about his chapped lips

his son wore a little suit

and a bowtie

his nieces

asked to see his shoes

his friends left a pack of Marlboros

in his pocket,

a Budweiser by his side;

he almost managed a smile

there is no peaceful death-

no fitting eulogy

no simple memory

for a man of thirty-two

©  puma perl, 1/3/09

thehuskybro:

Then he has this in his new movie THIS IS THE END

Seth Rogen, you ain’t shit.